


With the Sun at His Back

by Velundr



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, Soulmates, as much as soulmates is the prompt it's more of a background theme?, backfill from tumblr, i'd forgotten about this maybe i'll edit/finish it, shinra is so fucking disfunctional, starts early in cloud's shinra career
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 12:57:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17023044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velundr/pseuds/Velundr
Summary: On one afternoon on the training fields Cloud uncovers a talent - and the distant promise of the other half of his heart.Prompts: Your body plays a game of hot and cold to locate your soulmate, the hotter you are the closer you are to your soulmate, the colder, the farther away and strifesodos week (no longer has much to do with strifesodos, le whoops)





	1. Chapter 1

Metal clashed, blade skidding into his cross-guard and parried away, the sun behind him. He dropped his shoulders and swung in low. First blood. His foe brought his guard back up and he danced back and right into the other enemy's backhand.

Cloud landed hard and lay for a moment staring at the rolling clouds sky before spitting away the sand settling on him.

“Dammit.”

He sagged into the ground with a ragged sigh. And he thought he'd been doing so well... though, maybe he'd been right in thinking he was under the weather that morning, a chill creeping into his limbs against the best efforts of Junon's summer heat until the noon sun chased it away. He stilled at the thought. Cloud blinked his eyes open to peer, puzzled at the hazed circle of light overhead.

Captain Stiles blocked the view.

“The hell, Strife?”

Cloud flew upright with a startled Sir! Stiles, a solid man of a vague late twenty-something, hauled him the rest of the way.

“So,” the Captain's asked, “What was that? You were doing fine earlier.”

“I-” Cloud paused. “I'm not sure, sir. I had an eye on Diaz and then...” He frowned.

The misplaced sun-warm feeling remained at his back.

Stiles shifted, brow furrowed and looked him over. Cloud wondered what he saw as the corner of his mouth deepen and ask, “Strife, are you sick? Phan mentioned you were feeling off this morning.”

Cloud carefully kept the frown off his face. Of course Phan did. “I don't think so sir?”

“That's not a no.” Huffing, he sighed. “Look kid, I saw that look but you're new and you're young so I'll let it slide, but I need you to know this isn't the Fifth. I won't say we won't run you ragged sometimes, but we won't drive you into the ground without reason, and not all the time, and definitely not if you're already sick. It's no good to anyone. If you're not a hundred percent I need to know. So what is it, yes or no?”

“No sir,” Cloud blinked. It really wasn't something he'd have heard in the Fifth whose motto should have been Suck It Up Loser rather than Honour before Pride or Pizza Pockets or whatever garbage it actually was. He'd never bothered to remember it. No one really did.

“... Just- off. Sir.”

“Off how?”

“I'm not sure sir? It's... a feeling I guess. Distracting. Like there's something over there?”

'Over there' was the Junon Military Airfield, the strips sitting above the practise fields that the rest of the Second Infantry's Corvette Company were continuing their drills on. The tarmac normally saw regular traffic, but the day had been especially busy with a steady flow of arrivals, including an executive plane now empty though guarded at the terminal, likely transporting the SOLDIER and Infantry Directors if scuttlebutt was worth anything, and a large troop carrier, likely Wutai bound, that had rejoined the long queue for the runway, it's refuelling complete. The warmth shifted to his face as he turned to point.

Stiles hummed thoughtfully behind a dark hand, murmuring, “Well, Fowley did call you a treasure hound.” Louder he said, “Where exactly? Can you narrow it down?”

Cloud hesitated.

“Like with materia. Close your eyes if it helps.”

With a confused glance and a small shrug Cloud did so. It took a moment that might have been a few seconds or a few minutes. It was a little like using a Sense to touch with mind and mana though he could not reach and catch as with materia, only feel. It was strange and evasive, though the Captain didn't rush him. He wondered if this was like being sensed. The warmth radiated, almost waved, and he carefully traced it. There was something else around it, but the heat was commanding. It seemed to drift slowly from side to side, but underlying and he realized, pointing, “... It's moving?”

“Describe it.”

“It's all moving slowly that way.”

“All?”

“There's a cluster? But one is brighter. It distracted me. It's moving more though the others. Vibrating.” He paused, feeling drawn, “Pacing?”

“Ha!” Stiles burst with a clap behind him, “Well done!”

Breathless, Cloud jerked, eyes opening to see beyond his outstretched finger the carrier rolling towards the top of the runway. The pacing stopped.

The nearby men were watching.

“I'm going to need to find out who's on-board that flight, and find you a teacher – we are so nurturing this.”

“Sir?”

“Congratulations Strife,” the Captain clapped Cloud's shoulder, “it looks like you just might be a natural sensor.”

Cloud stared blankly.

“From what your old CO said you've done this before, you just didn't realize,” he continued. “You unearthed a good little pile of materia for your old squad you know, and you weren't even there long. But now... you were tested for mako responsiveness last week, correct? You'll be hyper sensitive for a while now – we'll take advantage of that. But yeah, picking out that much untrained it's probably a First Class you noticed – or a Second with a hell of a materia collection.”

“Oh,” said Cloud in a small voice. It was drowned out by the sudden roar of the carrier's many engines. They watched it for a moment as it thundered down the runway and lifted. Cloud frowned at the sudden dulling of the heat.

“Expect to be spending some quality time with one of the mage squads as soon as I get that sorted. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. We'll be wrapping up soon. Get started on your laps if you're up to it – laugh all you want Ansley, you get winded lighting a candle with materia – and head for the showers. I'll let you know as soon as I get your schedule resorted.”

“Sir.” He saluted as if it had ever been sorted to begin with. He'd only been told to follow Phan around up until this point, but some kind of officer's conference that week had delayed his own assignments, among other things.

Dismissed, the Captain turning to refocusing the other infantrymen, Cloud jogged towards his water. Taking a swig, which turned into a chug – he hadn't thought it'd been that hard but he had been rather breathless hadn't he? – and considered Stile's words.

He wasn't wrong, he supposed. There had been other people on that plane, already barely a silver speck on the sky. A lot of other people. And he did find things fairly easily, and strangers could hardly ever startle him too, now that he thought about it, but he was suddenly certain that the Captain wasn't all right either. The plane had pulled away, and as it did so too went the person who shone like a beacon and paced like a caged coeurl and stole away his morning chills. That was no Sense. Already his fingers were getting cold. Running seemed like a good idea, though it likely wouldn’t help.

His mother had told him once about meeting the woman she called her soul sister, her soul mate. About how standing at last face to face was like stepping out of darkest winter and into the brightest midsummer sun.

He just hadn't thought she'd meant it quite so literally.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles never did tell him who was on-board, but then again he was only an infantry captain – SOLDIER troop movements were hardly on his clearance level.

He did however claim the pilots had apparently been complaining about a First stalking up the aisles right up until take off, which was certainly... something. Cloud wasn't sure how he felt about it. The Captain also informed him a few day later that the Major had agreed to bounce him over to a SOLDIER tracking unit that would handle his materia training until he had a better handle on the Sensing thing, at least to the point that he wouldn't get distracted.

Cloud almost told him that the sensing hadn't been the problem, but he had started noticing other things now that he was aware of it so it was probably only a matter of time. It wasn't like he could have just not noticed the pleasant burning that had hooked into his mind anyway, nor shaken off the bitter chill it had left behind – an illusion that only he felt. (He discovered this by sticking his freezing hands on the back of Phan's neck, but his roommate only laughed: startled and ticklish but not cold. Cloud considered this a tossup.) It made a certain kind of sense he supposed, that in the absence of sun he be cold.

It also made sense that after a few days he got used to it and the frost in his fingers dissipated. He stopped tucking his hands under his arms. A week saw his balance restored, as if nothing had ever happened. And nothing had, really; he'd have never noticed a thing had they not been near enough to track each other down if not for the plane. He knew he had a soul mate, but most did though they didn't always meet and throw the feel of hot and cold into relief. He knew whoever it was probably a First, a new thing that narrowed it down by quite a bit, but it wasn't like in the start of the program when there'd been only a handful of them, beacons calling young people to enlist. The numbers had never been published so far as he knew, but they weren't insignificant and it wasn't like he could just go walking up to any of them. And really, who even knew what the person would be to him? He would have to be patient.

Them coming back would help too.

But it left him with a long list he couldn't check and an only mildly uncommon tutoring arrangement he'd have probably gotten sooner or later anyway.

The tutoring, if it could even be called that, was really more of a field course.

“See,” began McCormish, the Third nominated to lead him through whatever this was, as they waded through the grass and into the hills, “there isn't actually much to teach – you've been doing this already. It's jus' learning to do it on purpose an' not overloading tha's the trick, yeah? Specially since it won't turn off once yeh get goin.' We did the materia thing yesterday, what'd ya think?”

When his cohort was heading down to a materia practical, Cloud was snagged by the airy Third and hauled off to the lobby off the food court of the nearest shopping centre in the midst of the lunch hour. His assignment: find three materia the SOLDIER had hidden that morning and if possible, identify. Back on the training grounds it would have been easy in the relative quiet and only the Corvettes around, but in the lobby bustling with hungry people, screaming toddlers, excitable teens and frustrated shoppers...

“It made me kind of nauseous.”

“An’ that's why you had the rest o' the day off. But why?”

“There was... too much. Of everything. And I didn't know what it meant.”

Sensing without a Sense materia was an odd affair. A proper Sense worked like casting a spell net that picked up striking details, differing by the particular thing sought. A directed cast which was pointed at a particular thing or handful of things was the most common use, and was mostly used in identification. If the materia had encountered a creature or thing before it could impart a name to a caster as well as salient details: weak points, feeding habits, even intent or potential uses – whatever it was previous encounters had taught it. A general cast could work as radar for points of interest – large beings and magical trinkets mostly – but a skilled mage could create maps. Without the materia was to lose the interpreter. It was somewhat more nebulous; impressions and feelings that shifted shadow-like and resisted capture, buried under the noise of everything around them. More powerful things stood out but it was an overall frustrating experience.

“I think I know what angry people feel like.”

“'S good one to know – an' generally angry is different than angry at somethin' and malice is a whole other thing.”

“Sir?”

“You'll know it when you feel it. Today's different though – no big blobs a’ people to sort through. Work back up to a crowd later -we've picked up a nice puff job just for you. We're lookin' for a couple'a formula nests. Brownie points if you spot 'em, but till then... I'm reading five squirrels inside thirty feet of us. Start pointing.”

 

The next two months fell into a rhythm of drills and assignments, punctuated by the occasional abduction by McCormish's team for practise and evaluation. It was all rather less intense than he'd grown accustomed to in the Fifth, though when his new comrades asked him to explain they had brought their corner of the practise fields to a horrified stop.

“They sent a green fourteen year old a month out of boot camp on a high risk cross continent escort mission with a damn near guarantee of firefights with enhanced enemies?! What the actual fuck Strife?” Tanner's voice rose in an appalled screech.

“Hey, they said I did well on that one.... Considering.” Gun had liked his fire anyway – they still talked whenever they saw each other.

“No one's questioning that kid,” Diaz joined, “but you should have never been there and you know it. Hell, if you got tapped now we'd wanna swap you for a senior officer, but that new should have you guarding the caf loading bay or something – that your COs chose otherwise is kinda fucked up. I mean how old were the guys your were working with?”

“Twenty, twenty-five, maybe?” This had occurred to him too – any ego he might have grown in Nibelheim had died a gory death in the first week of boot camp. He knew there were bigger fish than him – they flattened him regularly enough, and his records had him as sixteen and holding for nearly two years. He'd been the youngest in the Fifth right up until he was moved the moment the number ceased to be a lie. It was part of why he'd been so sure he could handle the mission – surely they wouldn't give the kid anything really dangerous. He retucked his hands, shifting uncomfortably.

The other men had been killed – he'd been counted as successful for, despite everything, not following them into the green, for standing up to Gun and for the last minute thought to swap Rayleigh's research disk for some shitty CD his bunk mate had burnt. Only the infantrymen had been lost; for ShinRa that meant nothing was lost.

“Guys with experience then – may have even signed up when fourteen was the legal enlistment age, so may have been around here for a decade – and you when it should have been SOLDIERs... Maybe with support. I hope someone got roasted.”

Those in hearing range nodded in dark agreement, stepping back into their drills as the Captains nearby hollering about flapping jaws and the Major coming, but likely no one back then had cared. This was the clearest difference that Cloud had grown used to since he joined the Second. The Fifth had tended to dump whoever was available into special assignments unless specifically told not to with the result that only the lucky and the already skilled tended to survive. People might burn in trial by fire but the Fifth was a large force bloated by youths like Cloud enlisting in hopes of joining SOLDIER; they could afford the loses and management had never seen reason to change. The drive to succeed and stand out from the hoard had produced some exemplary individuals. Unfortunately it often led to the intakes being too competitive to form effective teams and so most advanced their own training alone and guideless. The Second, they scoffed green-eyed, was a different creature. An army with the training wheels still on.

In truth the Second merely had different priorities. Both infantries were stationed in Junon, but where the Fifth were the guardsmen of the city the Second were patrolmen, those who secured roads and rural areas of monsters and oversaw the protection of smaller communities and research stations in the area. To do so well most worked in squads and fire teams, some specialized some not, all of whom needed to network and frequently trade off rolls to best cover ground. This meant that their mandate also made them well suited for their secondary purpose: providing support teams and a recruitment ground for SOLDIER, hence an enthusiastic emphasis placed on training, teamwork, and skill-sets, particularly among the Corvettes.

The collective helpfulness was a jarring contrast for new transfers, but Cloud, shaking the stiffness from his arms to start his next round of katas (and when had the frost returned, he wondered) was glad to be away from the filter of the Fifth, even more so than for the shot at SOLDIER.

That training was mostly out in the fields was nice too.

The fences rattled as the descending liner touched down, and he was only a little disappointed that no one disembarked, but not at all surprised. The transports passed through at least twice a week, once heading out and once back to Midgar, settling on the hard top only long enough for a tanker to refuel, and would continue to do so for as long as the war dragged on.

He thought, for a moment, that he might have felt the rows of seated men past the cloying touch of light but then he stumbled and had to refocus on his forms.

Practise makes perfect, he thought, but maybe just one at a time for now.

But by the end of the next tour West he was sure, and with another he could count the Seconds aboard though not the Thirds, and could safely say his sun was quite a lot more irritated by not meeting than he was, were he so inclined to speak.

He wasn't sure when the other next set out as Cloud met more and more of his trainers approvals and saw his mission roster pick up. Corvette Company spent four months in the townships between Junon and Condor picking away at grandhorn nesting grounds before they could become a problem. There was no sign in the next weeks back at base either.

He spent two weeks up in the mountains (which he called little hills purely for how it annoyed everyone entirely too much, bar the woman from Rocket who rock climbed in Nibel) with a research train. They were to studying the cave systems and valleys, with a few looking into ark dragon behaviour. (Cloud also found these rather lack luster. Greens were bigger, meaner, and far more common. Almost pests, really.)

He'd had first watch most nights, and perched high on a slope had felt it at last, a chill that was not the thin spring mountain air. It took some time to find any more than that, and if pressed he'd have been forced to admit to being a poor guard that night, not that there'd been much to watch for, just him and the bats, but still. Sitting still on his rock in the hills, eyes closed and mind open to the world he found it, a feeling of light. Cold and clear as the stars in the night sky that burned burned burned, great blazing suns in foreign skies but so distant that nothing was felt but a prick in the dark.

It was a lonely feeling, he thought.

He could fix that.

Low on the horizon, twin contrails were caught over the moon, Westward bound.


	3. Chapter 3

His shoulder drove into the doorjamb with a pained grunt.

“Out of the way half pint.”

Cloud straightened with a hiss, “Fucking asshole.”

“What was that?”

The Second who'd blown past him into the post office to carelessly shove past the queued employees there turned slowly. His eyes were narrow, brows dark and eyes bright with anticipation and something unsettling. Looking for a fight, like so many had been lately.

Great. Lovely. Perfect.

“I said,” Cloud grit in a poor imitation of a TV. smile, “watch where you're going.” Asshole.

The man loomed near. And would you look at that! Cloud glanced at his stripes – he technically outranked him. Delightful. If only SOLDIER and Army were one department rather than just two in cooperation. Ah well, there were workarounds.

“Really,” the SOLDIER drawled, stance far too loose, (Cloud tried to smile reassuringly at the secretary on desk duty – by the watery one he got in return he wasn't terribly successful,) “Because that's not what I heard.”

“And you can be sure tell Colonel Hewley all about it when you explain to him why the Second won't supplement your teams, Lieutenant Nagel. Using enhanced strength on non-SOLDIER personnel, on civilian personnel, injuring officers, trying to pick fights... I'm sure he'll be fascinated.” He flicked out his PHS as he spoke, carefully beginning a message one handed – he'd shifted his left shoulder once and swiftly deemed it a bad show. “Also, half pint? Really? School kids can do better.”

It wasn't like he was even that short. He was average, maybe on the lower end depending who you asked. It was hardly his fault the mako made them all stupidly tall. Half pint. Honestly.

The SOLDIER seethed.

Cloud absently noted that antagonizing him was probably a bad idea, but he'd had a few too many teachers in the school of taking no shit – the kind the Seconds had been starting to dish since some time before the war began winding down. The kind previously reserved for the new Thirds who hadn't yet discovered how little their new matching number and tunic meant if they didn't have the rank to back it up. Senior and career Thirds were great. New Thirds were awful, and so too now were more and more Seconds. The Army had quickly had to take a zero tolerance policy against the rash and increasingly violent men; there was just too much damage a careless or angry Second could do to an infantryman for them to risk it. Cloud honestly felt bad for Hewley for having to deal with them. They would probably end up apologizing to each other the next time they met.

A girl, likely a summer intern with the short stick, slipped out of the back and heaved a package onto the counter.

“For the, ah, SOLDIER guy!” And she spun, gone again.

Good kids, getting rid of the problem.

“Take your things and go, SOLDIER. You'll be hearing about this soon enough.”

Nagel glared and sniffed, but otherwise did as told, cowed for the moment and muttering as he went. SOLDIERs had a tendency to omit from memory what the infantry's support did for them, but they remembered quickly enough when that support was revoked. Nagel's team didn't know it yet, but they were about to be very angry with him.

The door slammed through the hydraulics’ screech of resistance.

Try not to kill anything on the way out, Cloud thought darkly. Fucking Seconds.

There was something wrong with those guys.

 

Sitting on a bed in medical some time later – his prize for the day was a cracked clavicle – Cloud sent off his testimony to the security team handling this incident report and sighed over the joys of cross departmental anything. Thankfully bulldozer Nagel hadn't caused anyone else he'd knocked over more than a few bruises, but there were other men that had been set off and other reports that were not so light on that side. Things like this really made him regret sending off his contract so soon.

In a month he would be a Third.

He had already decided his course, his copy of the standard contract – rather more benign than previous versions – sat on his desk at home, his initials neatly printed. He would take the base term, and then, to the horror of his inner thirteen year old, he would not renew it. Thirds could do that. Seconds could retire from the force, but they would always be tied to the company, having been modified by more than just mako... the next round of which would hopefully sort them out for everyone's sake. He'd never heard of a First even trying to leave.

He wasn't sure what he would do after assuming he didn't change his mind – there was always a chance but he didn't really expect to. School maybe. The company would pay for it. Or maybe travel first – he had managed to get a nice nest egg saved up since he'd helped Ma move. Her business was going well, he'd probably help her for a while. Maybe start his own.

And somewhere in there, find the name of his damn soul mate maybe.

Cloud glared at his mail – the reason he'd been down in the post room to start with – a torn envelope laying on the cheap bedspread with it's lone plain manilla sheet denying his information request since apparently this, like meeting, was too much to hope for. It'd only been over two years of missed connections, he wasn't getting annoyed, really he wasn't.

He'd only asked after the First on a flight from a while back, an insignificant detail by now surely, to ask a question about something he'd Sensed, but no. It made him wonder who exactly the guy was.

Still, it left him with not much to do but wait. It didn't sit well.

The last half felt presence had seemed so far away, like a gulf to be bridged and it made something inside him ache.

Maybe he could ask again as a Third.

Cloud gathered his affects up as the doctor returned, a vial of potion for morning in hand and orders to take it easy for a few days. Materia was wonderful but broken bones were still broken bones, if only for a little while.

He was mostly unsurprised by Angeal waiting in reception.

Cloud had never been in a unit assigned to work with the Lieutenant Colonel (and staunchly denied making any kind of excited noise the first time he was told he would be assisting Sephiroth – who often arrived with him) but the man had always been interested in the troops doings and the progress of potential recruits so he tended to visit and occasionally teach whenever he was around the Corvettes or any of their sister companies in Midgar and Rocket. It had been after one such lesson and a very enjoyable conversation that Cloud had discovered he'd made a friend. A friend with a tendency to feel guilt on behalf of other people.

“Cloud-”

“Angeal, if your next words are any kind of 'I'm sorry' I will hit you doctor's orders or not.”

Angeal huffed: “Such a violent little person.” (“I'll little you,” grumbled Cloud. He was not short. He wasn't.) Then louder: “He is my responsibility.”

“Yeah, one of how many? I know you were sent with mostly Seconds this time.” He help up a staying finger, “Scuttlebutt. They're all over the place – you can't be with them at all hours of the day. They have jobs. I'm sure you put eyes on them, so what else could you do? Lock them up?”

“That would hardly be honourable, and unfair for the ones not causing problems.”

“Probably not feasible either.”

“Not for me,” Angeal agreed. “The department could though.” He sighed, brows deepening: “They'll have to if this keeps up.”

Cloud hummed in agreement – though if he'd learned anything in his time in ShinRa it was that were it not for internal politics some kind of measure would have already been in place. SOLDIER incidents leading to property damage or sweet little grannies with broken hips made for bad news days for the company. Both unfortunately had happened.

“Still,” he glanced up as they walked to the elevators, “I hope you didn't come all this way just to talk about things we can't fix ourselves.”

“Well it's not like you were hospitalized or anything.”

Cloud shrugged. “For, like, ten minutes.”

“But you're right. I just happened to overhear your name come up in the recruits lists – you decided then?” He pressed for a carriage – the doors dinged tinnily open and closed.

“Last week. I'll do a term. Maaaybe two. I definitely don't want past Third though.”

“Fair enough. A word of advice?” The floor dropped softly and Cloud craned his head, “Don't go on the celebration pub crawl the night before. In fact, don't drink at all. You'll thank me later.”

 

Cloud was going to send Angeal a gift basket.

It was such a small suggestion – ixnay iquorlay – but the results!

Cloud had, to his mild disappointment, reported to the Junon base Med Centre on the day he was to begin receiving his enhancements. He'd really hoped for a chance to see Midgar, having only been there briefly when he enlisted and while injured after that mess with Doctor Rayleigh, but as it turned out the Third level treatments could be carried out at any sufficiently large facility. This he'd heard rumoured was because the Thirds were purely mako enhanced – by means of a mako solution injected or soaked in with trace chemicals to control the transformation. Third levels could be achieved through contact with natural mako, but it was inadvisable due to the random effects and risk of memory loss, mutation and mako poisoning, which was why it tended to be an accident when it did happen. Most countries had for years before ShinRa had some variation on the SOLDIER Third, warriors once believed to be the Planet's chosen – ShinRa had merely perfected it. Seconds and Firsts by contrast could only be enhanced in Midgar as those processes were company secrets – supposedly the result of several separate experiments.

Cloud was among the first to emerge, groggy and hypersensitive in the dim rooms. He felt slightly raw, everything a little too something, but nothing like those still strapped into their tubes or on reinforced beds were going through. He spied them through windows as he made his way slowly, so slowly, hand over eyes towards the light down the hall.

A doctor stepped out with an over-loud clack of a door. Spotting Cloud he rustled in his bag for a long moment of Cloud wincing through the sound of crunching plastic and paper before emerging victorious, presenting

“Goggles?” Cloud blinked and at the doctor's urging (“Trust me, the coverage is better.”) tugged them on. “Oh. Ohhh.”

“Hmm, better, yes?”

“Thank you.” He hadn't quite realized that the light wasn't just uncomfortable, it hurt, until it was gone.

“A warning then – it'll be worse before it gets better.”

Cloud nodded. He'd been warned, and the test shot of yesteryear had been the same.

“But you were wondering about your cohort, yes?” The little man waved at the nearest occupied room. “Mako is a life energy – a healing one, lad, and alcohol is poison. They always get so deep in their cups – honestly I can't fathom why anyone ever expects this to play out any differently.”


	4. Chapter 4

SOLDIER Thirds were a gil a dozen, or at least it felt that way.

Being the easiest enhancement level to implement it was used – possibly to excess, but the Thirds needed to cover a lot of ground. They formed the backbone of any regions monster control measures, ever more important as monster incidents mounted higher higher and higher – important enough to warrant company implemented training schedules, a step up from the Second Army’s local programs just as those were up from the Fifth’s self motivated work.

Unlike the infantry, however, SOLDIERs came out of their adjustment period combat ready and could be shipped out immediately without the addition training, which was preferred but not strictly necessary as had been the case during the worst of the war. Those who survived could always do the required work later and sign up for extras as they wished. The courses were useful and taken one or two at a time as scheduling permitted, covering things like higher tactics, practical science, and the like. Cloud didn’t mind them per se, but the seminars were far more useful. They were technically part of the SOLDIER Seconds’ training as they rarely had the time to dedicate for a regular class, and even if they did the Seconds were usually already too specialized for a course to be worthwhile. Others could sign up if space allowed, or might be forced to if they had a particular talent worth cultivating.

Cloud learned this when he was (finally) sent to Midgar for two such ones – all higher magic courses, large and small, took place there on account of the poor demand and better facilities. His first was more of an exploratory thing, stress tests, that took up most of his time as his limit breaks had apparently raised a few eyebrows. Summoning space rocks he’d figured was weird but weather related things was a surprise, and both were enough to try and see if he had anything else hiding up his sleeves. He didn’t see anything but the instructors and evaluators made interested noises so what did he know.

The other was just a one time practical that summed up as ‘10 More Fun Things You Didn’t Know Sense Could Do!’ after which the little group – the Seconds had been seeing more restrictions – was set free to use the knowledge as they would.

The main take away was that with higher mako and more refined skills he could now find less concrete things, like ‘something fun to do’ – this one worked by the spell picking up on emotional imprints on the thing in question, the echoes of the emotions humans radiated and how some things just felt loved, but this gave him the worst sort of headache. ‘Something I forgot’ was tetchier but could also worked by both the same method looking for his own touch on things or by scavenging his own subconscious for the most relevant memory. This led vaguely downward. After a halfhearted attempt to ping his list shortlist for his possible soul mate, in theory possible but failed (whether by distance as he was feeling fine or by lacking the right name or just not being possible he couldn’t know) he decided to track down the forgotten thing.

After lunch. Magic made a body hungry.

In Sector Four he found a streetcar owned by a woman from the lowlands back home who was serving up variations on their traditional foods. She served him up extra (“None of that dear – you’re the first Nebel child I’ve seen in months!”) and they chatted for a bit about home and the changes in their fare. The food was good and nostalgic, but they both lamented that no spice could ever make up for the kick of a real dragon stew while her other patrons listened in in fascinated horror.

“It’s not actually dragon… is it?” one asked with a worried furrow in his brow.

“Oh it is,” Cloud replied with contained glee, licking his spoon; he’d missed this stuff more than he’d thought. “There’s a trick to bringing them down of course. It’s hard, but I nearly managed it with a friend before I enlisted, and they make fantastic jerky.”

“Ah- I see,” he said, but he clearly didn’t see and edged away in strategic retreat muttering something about country folk under his breath.

Rude, Cloud thought, and finished his dish.

He snapped a picture of the truck before he left, making note of the streets – he’d have to keep an eye out whenever he came back – and continued on his way.

The forgotten thing was still somewhere below.

The stairs to the slums were long and a tedious climb, but there was a ring network of public walkways below the initial few flights – sparse and like everything under the plate filthy and in need of maintenance, but they let him circle and narrow down his course lest he spend hours roaming the narrow twists and turns of the warrens that wound between all the main roads. Whatever it was was in sector five so he slid on his shades and descended the rest of the way.

Some of the under Plate sectors were better off than others. Sector Four was probably the best of them with most of it’s infrastructure intact – a mostly civilian project with neighbourhood associations banding together to keep everything working after Shinra left them behind. Seven was likely in the best straights after it, with it’s assorted gang connections keeping their territories in shape. Sector Six was dark and mostly abandoned – buildings derelict and condemnable outside of Wall Market – a few well trodden paths between Sectors were all that saw much life. Sector five was closer to this than the first two though it had more life and some of the Slums brightest areas were found there too – it was to one of these that Cloud, heart aching, followed his magic’s nudge.

He wandered through the settlement and came to a stop a shot ways away from it where the feeling was strongest outside of a house with actual flowers. And not just a few; it was bursting with them.

Oh, Cloud thought, suddenly worried that he should have dressed better

The nameplate read Gainsborough.

A woman, greying brown hair in a loose bun, was up on one of the terrace plots tending to it.

“Pardon!” Cloud called and thought as she turned that, yes, she did look like the pictures, “Are you Elmyra?”

“Depends,” she leaned on the railing and frowned eyeing his standard issue boots and cargo pants – he’d decided the tunic wouldn’t be worth the hassle down below. “Who’s asking?”

“My name’s Cloud – Cloud Strife? I’m Claudia’s son.”

“Cl-?” Elmyra peered down then jumped up: “Oh! Oh, you wait there just a tick, I’ll be right down!”

And that was how Cloud met his mother’s soulmate.

Elmyra puttered about her kitchen gathering tea and snacks:

“She’s doing well in Costa she said – I don’t think she really wanted to admit it.”

“She really didn’t,” Cloud agreed, “She loves the mountains too much, but she’s a jeweller and the market dried up back home. We weren’t doing well and if she wanted to get back to it…” Cloud sighed. “I’m just glad she’s happier.”

“And she just wants you happy,” she plunked down a heavily laden tray and catching his eye explained, “My daughter’s due home soon. If she brings that boy of hers we’ll need all of this. But that’s neither here nor there. So. Are you? Happy, with this I mean,” she said waving at him – his eyes and uniform.

“Mostly? I’m glad I tried and I’m glad I got in, but I don’t think I’ll stay. I’ve been with the company for four years now – I’ve got four more on my contract and then…” He turned his cup about in his hands. “I don’t know. We’ll see – but I know while there are good parts of the company there’s some things they do that I can’t- I just can’t support it.”

When he looked up Elmyra was watching him with all too knowing eyes. She pat his hands in approval.

“Well, dear, we agree on that much.”

They sipped their tea in silence for a minute or two until laughing voices outside caught their attention.

“Ah, I was right then.”

The door opened with a singsong “Mooo-ooom! I’m hooo-” a young woman started at the sight of Cloud holding one of their better cups, “-ome? Mom?”

“It’s alright dear, this is Cloud, Claudia’s boy.” Cloud stood with a little wave. “Cloud, this is my daughter Aerith.”

A SOLDIER stuck his head in behind her, “And me!”

“And the guy she keeps dragging home,” Elmyra amended with a mischievous grin.

“Hey!” The man laughed wide and bright, and Cloud thought he might have seen him before though he couldn’t say where, “It’s Zack. Zack Fair.”

“Not Hewley’s student?” asked Cloud, shaking his hand.

“That’s the one! You know him?”

“We talk whenever he’s at the JMA.”

“Junon?” Fair blinked, “Well that explains why I haven’t seen your hair around.”

Cloud shrugged. “Yeah. I’ve only been to Midgar once before, and that was only two days on base when I was in the infantry. As it is I’m only here for courses.”

“What are you taking?” This was Aerith, settling but still unsettled next to her mother.

“There was a seminar today for Sensing stuff – that’s actually what brought me here. I forgot I could visit.” He scratched his head embarrassed. “There may be more once they’ve gone over the skills test results.”

“Oh man,” burst Zack, all enthusiasm and gossip, “I heard that was going on this week. Somebody said some guy blew out a wall – like, with a tornado. Is that crazy or what?”

“I…” Cloud bit his lip. “I didn’t do it on purpose?”

There was a moment of silence around the table, but it lasted only a breathe.

Cloud was pretty sure Zack’s laughter, wholly unnecessary, could be heard from the Plate. Aerith gave a snort behind her hand and joined him. Elmyra looked bemused.

“Did you really?”

“I. Yes. I did.” He frowned at the other two, “It’s a limit break, you don’t get to pick yours. And I told them I shouldn’t do that one inside!” He paused. “Or the meteor one.”

“That was you too?!” Zack guffawed. “That’s fantastic. You have got to show me how to do that.“

Elmyra grimaced. "Please don’t show him how to do that.”

“… I don’t think it works that way? But I don’t think I should be showing anyone who’s that excited about summoning fiery space rocks how to summon fiery space rocks anyway.”

“Oh good. Because he’s a blue mage you know- he could do it.”

“Man, ruin my fun.”

“Just stick to Aerith’s for now, dear. For my peace of mind if nothing else.”

“Aw, fine, I’ll be good. But we’re still keeping him, right?”

Cloud suspected he didn’t get a say in this.

He wasn’t wrong.


	5. Chapter 5

The green dragon’s dying screech was still echoing in the caverns when the flashing glimmer of gold caught against his spell-work and led Cloud down to the creature’s hoard. It was probably the largest one he’d seen, he thought with a low whistle, the stolen and shattered shipping container that saw this dragon reported hardly added to the mass. It was going to be a hell of a job sorting the mess out, and he was quietly glad it wouldn’t be his problem, bar maybe spotting any cursed items. At a glance he could feel at least three.

Considering the pile he hummed.

“I wonder if I can have dibs on any weapons they find.”

Kamala looked up from her own perusal, “Assuming there’s anything unclaimed, I’m sure you can. You did good Strife.”

“Thanks sir,” Cloud grinned, “and there definitely should be. That dragon could have gotten a good little hoard but this? It probably stole it from another dragon who stole it from another... or maybe an old blue died and it took over. The junk at the bottom’s gonna be old.” Maybe he could get a decent bracer or a spelled blade if he played his cards right.

The colonel shrugged. “You’re the expert. I’ll take your word for it – I know arcs not greens.” She stood with a grunt, “But this all isn’t going anywhere. Let’s clear the caves and report in. There’s a flight from Rocket back to base this afternoon and I want on it. You with me?”

Cloud bounced up from poking tarnished gil: “Yes mam!”

There was little else to do in these caves – less sprawling than the yawning early tunnels had suggested, or even as much as the other dens they’d tracked down had been. They wound just far enough to keep a steady temperature year-round but not so deep as the dragons nearer to home had to burrow to escape the harsher winters there. The bulk seemed to be water-carved by a stream they found towards the back, but there was nothing else living apart from the bugs so they called it a day.

Leaving the cave mouth they did their best to camouflage the entrance. It would be at least a few days until a retrieval team could make it out there with the trucks necessary to haul the frankly ridiculous loot pile back to an airfield warehouse for sorting and it wouldn’t do for someone to notice it. Or worse – for another dragon to try moving in. Retrieval was unlikely to have a SOLDIER guard. Once they were satisfied with their work they set out for the rendezvous point to meet their ride.

The hilltop was a good ways off but they were nearly there before they finally got back into phone range and as one their PHS’s lit up. Cloud heard Zack’s ringtone several times, and a few of his old squad too and he worried what prompted it – he shared a heavy look with the colonel, and frowning they both stopped to read.

“Not mission orders?”

“No... Well. Could be. There’s been a flareup in Wutai.” The news was a few days old now as they’d been out of contact hunting for most of the week but it was concerning.

“No, that’s too small for this much noise.”

“Hrmf. Maybe.”

A minute passed in silence until Kamala dragged a hand through her hair and sighed.

“Finally.” She said, flipping her phone shut. “They’ve ‘reassigned’ the Seconds to Midlands and the Strand Airbase. Probably send some West too. No word what prompted it though.”

“... An accident, I think.”

“‘Accident’ you mean?”

Cloud shook his head. “Don’t know. The army only knows about the move but... I know some Firsts. They’re talking about an incident with at least one them.” He grimaced. “Someone they know from the sounds of it – they’re not usually very flappable. Might be unrelated though.”

“Well, nothing we can do from here. I think I hear the chopper – let’s go home.”

They arrive back in Junon late that evening, reports completed on the flight over and the news parsed for anything more than the updates they’d been sent, but all Cloud could find was more of the same. Thin details suggesting a splinter cell in Wutai, possibly AVALANCHE, and a general outrage that it took so long to remove ‘those menaces in the Second’ - a turn of phrase Cloud found personally offensive even if he knew what they meant. The Second... wasn’t harmless, they were too good at their jobs for that but they weren’t dangerous. The Second Classes however were ticking time bombs no matter what force they were assigned to, but there was no word on what finally triggered their move. Nor was there news about any of the Firsts, and no one seemed to be around so he would simply have to wait until morning to get someone to fill him in.

Until then, he bid the Lieutenant Colonel goodnight and went to find his bike – his kitchen was calling.

Halfway home he scrapped the thought and picked up some takeaway instead. It had been a long week and the shower and bed were calling too.

Some hours later, well fed and still damp Cloud roused from his cozy doze on the couch and drifted to his apartment’s window high over Junon. Distantly he could see the familiar silhouette of the base and it's airfield aswarm with more lights than usual but he closed his eyes to it and the military jet turning onto the runway. Instead he felt for the glaze of warmth that had lured him out, no greater than a candle flame before him, to bask like a moth before he could pull away.

“Going back again, huh?” he asked the light, “Well, at least they weren’t panicked over you.”

He leaned, closed eyed and tired against the glass until the fire dimmed and pulled the feeling from his toes.

“Well, then, maybe next time.”

But next time didn’t come.


End file.
